Page 42 of Breaking the Code

I ignore the tantalizing sight. I remove his pants, helping him lift his legs as I pull them from his feet. I toss them aside. The boy is trembling.

I pull the scrap o’ fabric off him. It barely covers him as it is.

“Daddy!” he gasps.

Jesus, I love the sound o’ that. It’s been too damn long.

I try to rein in my eagerness. “I’m not sure we’re at that point yet. How about Draven or possibly sir?”

“How about Daddy?” He smarts off, his eyes going wide.

I chuckle. “You’re a brat.”

He just gets better and better.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, fear coloring his expression.

I want to murder the motherfucker who did this to him.

“I’m nae. I like brats,” I say as I let go o’ the leash on the smirk I’ve been wrangling. I feel it tug at my face, and Tavish’s face loses its worry. The impish little grin returns.

“Now get in bed,” I say as I pull open the blankets for him.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

TAVISH

He thinks he’s sneaky, but no one makes a move inside this building or steps foot on this property, for that matter, without me knowing. I have motion-activated cameras covering every square inch from multiple angles. I refuse to be caught off guard ever again.

Chastising myself for going there even momentarily, I let myself revel, knowing that this big, sexy beast of a man seems infatuated with me. Maybe almost as much as I am with him. I’m doubting it, though. No one has ever been as drawn to someone as I am to him.

After demanding I rest, he leads me to the bedroom. I stare at him as he raises the blankets. I’m so damn hard, I’m aching, and I feel like I’m about to burst. But he’s ignoring it. My dick is not happy with him about it, either. Even when his hands were right there, hovering over my pulsating cock while he unzipped my pants, he didn’t acknowledge it at all.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says.

I swallow. It’s on my tongue to brat back at him again, but I don’t want to push my luck. He might like brats, but no one enjoys being ignored. From everything I’ve read, daddies enjoy giving orders, and if their boys don’t follow them, they like to punish them. And I’m down for that.

Hmm. Maybe that’s why he likes brats. Maybe he likes to punish them?

“I can see the brat playing in your eyes. You can let him out to play another day. Get in bed. You need rest.”

“But…”

I jump as a hand pops my butt. The sound echoes through the room, and I squeak as I climb into bed as fast as I can.

Not there, my ass.

“That was a Daddy move,” I grumble, hoping to make him admit we were there.

I sneak a peek at him through my lashes. His face is stony and hard, but I can see the twitching he’s struggling to control around his mouth.

Maybe he does like brats.

Daddy Draven, the brat tamer.

I chuckle, but I dissolve into laughter until I’m gigglesnorting. He shakes his head.

“Lay down, brat, and get some sleep.”

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